Spring Break
by Gethsemane
Summary: A Response to WIKTT's Beach Fic Challenge


Spring Break

  
  


Author: Gethsemane   
Rating: PG   
**Disclaimer: While I did buy and do now own all of the Harry Potter books, as well as various games, figures, party supplies, and the movie, I still do not own the intellectual property that is the characters and concepts involved in the Harry Potter series. The belong to J.K. Rowling, Scholastic, Warner Brothers, and the British publisher whose name I cannot recall at the moment. This ia an answer to the Beach Fic Challenge, so the idea is also not my own, but the words are, for the most part. I did have many interesting ideas for H/S stories; however, I saw most of them in print already when I joined WIKTT and looked up Hermione/Snape on Fanfic.net. That said, here goes.**   
  


"Miss Granger, a word with you after class, please," Snape murmured as he checked her potion in passing. 

"Yes, sir." Hermione answered Snape as she added the dream essence to her Deus Misciatus potion. Ron, Harry, and Neville all sent her looks of sympathy, but she paid them no heed. Snape, with all his swishing, hissing, and point deduction, had ceased to get on her nerves or intimidate her since she began working on her honors project in sixth year.   
The boys, however, refused to believe that Snape could act civil to anyone, even Hermione. Hermione thought she had a decent relationship with Snape, well as decent as such a relationship could be. He never insulted her or yelled at her in class anymore, and he wasn't nearly as sarcastic when they talked of her project.   
After the bell rang, Hermione slowly packed her satchel and once the room was clear, she approached his desk. 

"You wished to speak with me, Professor?" 

"Ah, not really," he sighed, which was quite uncharacteristic, even for him. " But it seems I must. I have the unfortunate duty to inform you that you and I must coordinate the seventh year spring trip." Hermione gasped and began to feel quite ill. 

"But sir, I'd planned to stay on over the break to work on the paper. I need to get it ready for submission to the journal." 

"I realise that, Miss Granger, but this year the planning has been put upon me." Snape winced at the memory of pulling the short straw. "Good for you!" Dumbledore had said with a grin. "Free at Last!" yelled Hooch, who'd been stuck with the role of chaperone for three years in a row. Minerva had just huffed a bit, but she did look relieved. 

"You know it is one of your duties as Head Girl." 

"But what about Draco?" Hermione asked, grateful, for once, that he was Head Boy. 

"Mr. Malfoy has a previous appointment over the break," Snape said. Hermione cursed her fate and sat silently for a while. She supposed that one only has the opportunity to go on a seventh year trip once in one's life, so perhaps it would be fun. She was shook from her thought by Snape clearing his throat. 

"Oh, I'm sorry, sir. Did you say something?" 

"No, I just didn't want you lapsing into a state of catatonia in my classroom." 

"Oh, sorry. Shall we begin now, then?" Hermione decided it would be better to get it over with quickly. 

"Sadly, no. I must meet with Professor Sprout about the new batch of Nightshade. Might you come to my office after dinner?" 

"Yes, sir." Hermione grabbed her bag and left the room. She was not looking forward to tonight, but she made up her mind to make the best of it. Perhaps she could suggest they visit some of the historical sites of the wizarding world...or some famous libraries. 

*** 

"What?!" Hermione practically screamed. Snape held up his hands in surrender. 

"It is not my choice, Miss Granger. Should you like someone to strangle, I suggest you pay a visit to your Headmaster." 

"I'm sorry sir...but, a _tropical island_? What is to be gained by taking a class trip there?" 

"Well, Miss Granger, it is customary for seventh year class trips to be fun, rather than educational, and though an isle in the tropics is not might idea of fun, your classmates disagree. Do you not remember the poll?" Hermione had a vague remembrance of Lavender and Parvati squealing about something in the common room. 

"So where exactly are we going? Hawaii, Tahiti, St. Croix?" 

"No, Albus will be arranging for us an island devoid of others, Muggle or otherwise." 

"A deserted island? This isn't going to be some 'Survivor' week is it?" 

"I'm sorry Miss Granger, it seems that you've lapsed into gibberish..." 

"'Survivor'. It is a game show on the telly where they abandon a group of people in the middle of nowhere. The one left at the end of a certain time period wins." 

"Well, as appealing as the idea of only returning with one of you lot is, that is not what I meant. Dumbledore is renting a Wizarding island somewhere out in the Pacific. It is a small island, but there is a resort there, and we will have the island to ourselves." 

"That sounds nice, I suppose. Shall we be flying there?" 

"That's a stupid idea, Granger. Really, can you imagine what all the Muggles would say when they saw 40 students and myself flying through the sky?" 

"Not on broomsticks, sir," Hermione bit her lip to refrain from calling him a twit, "on a plane." 

"What? Fly through the air in a metallic contraption with Longbottom? Not bloody likely! Contrary to popular belief, I rather value my life, thank you very much." Snape sneered at the slightly muffled snort that came from Hermione's direction. 

"What then, sir?" 

"Portkey, of course." Hermione's stomach sunk, but she realised that she should have known. 

"Sir, if everything is all planned out, why are we here making arrangements?" 

"Oh that. Well, we must make up a list of what the students can and cannot take, a list of what we should bring for emergencies, and we need to have an agenda...by tomorrow." 

"Oh, great," thought Hermione, "this is going to be a long night." 

*** 

Three and a half weeks later, Hermione found herself on Sabulo Island staring at a large number of bamboo huts and a swimming pool surrounded by a Bar and Grill and various Surf Shop T-shirt stores. She could not get the image, nor the song, from Gilligan's Island out of her mind. After having a very long argument with Snape, she'd finally won the right to her own private hut instead of having to share with Lavender and Parvati. Unfortunately, her all the single huts were over on the other side of the resort and hers happened to be right next to Snape's.   
She was quite happy to find that although the huts looked like mere bamboo huts, the insides were quite large and extremely comfortable. Hermione flopped on her bed and reveled in the softness of it before finally dragging herself over to her trunk to dig out her modest tankini. 

"You can't wear _that_!" screamed her mirror, once she'd dressed. 

"Oh, great! My mirror is possessed by Lavender," Hermione groaned. She jumped slightly when the small wooden tiki statue on the dresser started jumping up and down. 

"You have offended the gods of the island with your hideous choice of swimwear!" bellowed the statue and a blinding flash of light flew out of the tiki's eyes towards Hermione. She woke to find herself clad in a shiny black string bikini. 

"I can't go outside in this!" Hermione shrieked looking at the bikini bottom and noting that she would be better covered by a five pound note. In a flash, her lower section was covered in a silky, sheer floral wrap. 

"Well, I guess this is okay. She admired her new ensemble in the mirror and barely jumped at all when a final beam left a large white flower behind her ear. 

Due to the uncalculated time difference, they had arrived at dusk. Luckily, the pool and all that surrounded it was open until 2, so the gang still had time to swim and have fun. Hermione was currently on her way to the bar after having been traumatized first by the sight of Neville in a bright red speedo, and further by the graceless swan dive which caused him to lose the aforementioned speedo. It only got worse as she passed Crabbe and Goyle running around in grass skirts...god those two were useless when Malfoy were around, but doubly so without him. The final straw had been a screaming, cursing Ron. He'd had to owl his mother for a swimsuit, and as he didn't swim, she had sent him one of George's. Unfortunately the twins must have intercepted the package because the suit's waistband was charmed to inflate into a large pink elephant swim ring. 

"Well, at least you won't drown," Harry had said after he'd finished rolling around on the floor laughing. For his comment, Harry was treated to a great shove towards the pool by Ron. Harry, however, had lightning reflexes which allowed him to grab the pick elephant's trunk, thereby pulling Ron in after him. Hermione took the opportunity to run the rest of the way to the bar. 

She sat at the counter languidly stirring her third frozen drink. The flickering torches, combined with her drinks, had lulled her into a comfy hypnotic state. She was beginning to appreciate the crashing of the waves in the background and the mellow sounds of Jimmy Buffet playing over the bar radio. She was wondering whether or not Jimmy was actually a wizard when she was jolted back to reality by a familiar voice. 

"And I would like that shaken, not stirred." Snape growled at the large Hawaiian bartender. 

"Whatever you say, budda." The man replied and turned to make the drink. 

"Good evening, professor," Hermione said, as he sat down next to her. 

"Oh. Hello, Miss Granger..." Snape narrowed his eyes and sniffed, "Is that a Mai Tai you are drinking?" 

"Why yes," she answered. "I believe it is." 

"Miss Granger, I am shocked. That drink has alcohol in it." 

"So does yours," Hermione answered as the bartender set a large drink with an umbrella in front of Snape. 

"I wanted a martini." Snape growled. The bartender shrugged and wandered away. 

"Anyhow," muttered Snape, turning back to Hermione, "I am allowed to drink. You are not." 

"Oh, please." Hermione said. "I've been 18 since September." And that wasn't even counting the time turner incident, she thought. 

"Still, you are Head Girl, and I don't think..." 

"Stuff it, you old prat." 

"W..what?" Snape sputtered, spitting his drink out all over the bar. 

"Oh, I'm sorry!" Hermione squealed when she realised what she said. "I'm just tired and those guys are driving me nuts." As she said this Crabbe came running through the bar, tailed by Goyle. 

"No I do not want you to rub tanning oil on me, you wanker! It's bleedin' night time for Merlin's sake!" Crabbe yelled. 

Not five seconds passed before Dean and Seamus stalked by followed by a whining and very naked Neville (though he was trying to achieve some modesty by covering himself with a lei made of large purple and white flowers). 

"But guys, why do I have to sleep out there on the beach? Why won't you let me back in the hut?" 

"Neville," groaned an irritated Dean, "It is your fault your suitcase got blown up, and it isn't our problem that that piece of cloth you called swimwear got eaten by the pool filter." 

"Yeah, and I'm sorry, but I'm not sleeping with a naked guy in the room, so grab a beach towel and get!" Seamus growled. 

Hermione downed the rest of her drink in one gulp and sighed. Snape took in the whole scene and did the same. 

"So I see...shall I buy you another drink?" Hermione accepted gratefully and Snape ordered another round for the both of them...anything to make the pain of seeing Neville naked go away. 

Hermione sipped her drink and turned to give Snape the once over. She was immensely relieved to find that he was not wearing a speedo, a hula skirt, or an inflatable elephant. He was wearing a sleek form fitting suit in the style of a pair of biking shorts and a white tank top with a Tequila worm wearing a sombrero. He had a pair of Ray-ban perched on the top of his head. She had to admit, he looked pretty damn sexy. 

"Nice suit." she purred. 

"Damn tiki god," Snape muttered.   
  
  
  


The End 

AN: ARRGH! Thank Heavens I actually wrote something! My muse has been gone for so long it is pathetic. I don't know how good this is, but at least it's done. I hope you get some amount of enjoyment from it. 


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